


Bees who ought to be in Bed: Movie Night

by Kiiratam



Category: RWBY
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, Fluff, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:27:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27040453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiiratam/pseuds/Kiiratam
Summary: Blake deals with the aftermath of a movie marathon.Takes place between Volumes 1 and 2 (My BMBLB fic index).
Relationships: Blake Belladonna/Yang Xiao Long
Comments: 7
Kudos: 75





	Bees who ought to be in Bed: Movie Night

Blake woke up to screaming.

  
Lifting her head off of Yang's shoulder, she looked around for the remote. Everyone else had apparently stumbled off to their rooms, leaving her and Yang alone in the common room. Alone with the mess of an all-day movie marathon, with soda bottles and candy wrappers and popcorn bowls...

  
On the screen, the final girl - she was a brunette this time - was wailing and flailing away with a wrench at the latest blue-eyed monster. Blake had no idea how successful _that_ was going to be, long-term. She wasn't even sure which movie they were on. It looked like the action was happening in a submarine? Or a spaceship?

  
Grabbing the remote, Blake dropped the volume down to a whisper. She was honestly surprised Yang hadn't woken up. But this had been their Sunday - trying to watch all of the Blue-Eyed Ghost movies, cramming them in after homework and practice. Yang was probably just desensitized to the screaming at this point.

  
It sounded pretty fake, anyway.

  
Ignoring the horribly shaking 'action cinematography' on the screen, Blake glanced around the darkened common room. It was probably for the best that Weiss had flatly refused to have anything to do with their movie marathon - the mess would have given her a fit.

  
Yawning, Blake was tempted to just lean back onto Yang, and drift off to sleep again. They had practice in the morning, and another week of classes and Yang was warm -

  
_And who was going to clean this up?_

  
Blake slipped carefully out from under Yang's arm and off of the couch. There was a cleaning staff, but there was a difference between doing just regular cleaning, and having to deal with all of this wreckage. And Blake also didn't want Weiss to come in for her morning coffee, and see this mess, and she'd be completely justified in blame Blake and Yang, since it was their movie marathon, and there'd probably be severe indignation - and as much fun as it could be to provoke The Schnee, just Weiss was different. 

  
She started stacking up popcorn bowls. Some of them weren't even empty, which was just -

  
Shaking her head, Blake threw away her half-formed thought. No point getting worked up over a _little_ wasted food. 

  
Blake skimmed a few pieces of popcorn and popped them into her mouth. The credits were starting to roll, to the discordant electronic noises this movie had instead of a score. She could almost make out the central motif from the first movie, but at this point, Blake was pretty sure she'd hear that in her dreams for a few days.

  
Picking up the precariously tall stack of bowls, she tried to glide over to the sink, minimizing the vertical component of her walk. It wasn't far off from some of her Stealth & Security exercises, trying to build consciousness of her movements. 

  
Not that she was having trouble with that class. But it was a very different environment to practice her skills - no real stakes, everything very technical, philosophical, even abstract. ...Even if Professor Tauros' name kept her a bit on edge.

  
_Breathe in, hold it, breathe out._

  
She set the stack of bowls down on the counter, and started emptying them into the trash - unpopped kernels, popcorn, everything. And, just for practice, trying to do it quietly. Combine bowls of just kernels into ones with popcorn, to muffle the noise, provoking movement with the side of her thumb instead of just letting gravity do the work - 

  
It still wasn't quiet, exactly, but if the screaming hadn't woken Yang up, this probably wouldn't.

  
Picking up the trash can, Blake carried it over to the couch. No point in taking trips back and forth when she could just fill up the trash can at the source.

  
The apparently inexhaustible source. Blake wasn't sure who had brought the bags of individually wrapped Dummies, but the wrappers were _everywhere_. It wasn't quite a carpet of dead leaves, but that the comparison even occurred to Blake...

  
Yang made a noise in her sleep, and Blake froze.

  
She didn't want to interrupt Yang's sleep. Blake did that often enough already, with her bad dreams. Making Yang help her with them. 

  
_I don't **make** her do anything. She offered to help._

  
_And I'm just taking advantage of her offer. Taking advantage. Taking everything she has and just making it all about me me me, because that's all I am, that's all I'm good for-_

  
_Breathe in, hold it, breathe out._

  
Blake forced her hand to relax, gently setting the empty soda bottle in the trash.

  
_Yang's my friend. And she can tell I'm hurt, and she's trying to help. And I'm not a burden. I'm trying to give back, make sure that we're partners, that I'm not just a little decorative parasite._

  
_It's just... difficult. Yang's normal._

  
_...Not **bad** normal. Not even normal normal, because she's just an amazing fighter, and kind, and smart, and I haven't ruled out her being able to read minds or something, because sometimes she's reacting to my moods before I even know I'm in one -_

  
_She's not broken up like I am. She's a whole person. What could even hurt her? They'd just charge her Semblance and get flattened. And she was never as dumb as I was, with my head full of stories. Yang doesn't have the same breaks I do. She doesn't have night terrors, or day terrors, and she's not a weak-willed little coward like I am._

  
_Breathe in, hold it, breathe out._

  
Blake kept putting trash away. Slowly. Quietly. Calmly.

  
The music over the credits changed to some kind of... heavy metal lullaby? She couldn't make out any words, just growling in a weirdly sing-song cadence.

  
The "problem", Blake decided, adding enormous air quotes in her head, was that Yang didn't _need_ anything. She was doing what she loved, she had a great sister, plenty of friends, hobbies she was good at -

  
There were no holes to plug, no part missing. If Blake hadn't claimed Yang as her partner, Yang could have partnered well with anyone. She was well balanced, practically invincible with her Semblance. Who wouldn't want someone that solid and dependable watching their back?

  
_What am I going to do, push her away because she's too perfect?_

  
_I don't deserve her._

  
_And that's not a good way to think about people. No one is entitled to another person. Don't keep score._

  
_Don't act like Adam._

  
Blake set her handful of bottles down into the trash, spacing them out so they wouldn't clink against each other. The popcorn and candy wrappers helped insulate them from each other.

  
She got down on her hands and knees, putting her eyes at floor level so she could spy out any hidden trash. A decent amount had been - probably accidentally - kicked under the coffee table. And there were lots of... _things_ under the couch. They could be Grimm dust bunnies, for all Blake knew. But it wasn't like she could get at the couch with Yang still sleeping on it, so Blake decided to leave that for another time. Same with the popcorn that had almost certainly worked its way under the couch cushions.

  
Dumping everything she could grab, Blake looked up as the credits and music ran out.

  
An establishing shot flashed back on the screen - it _had_ been a submarine. And the camera jolted, and swiveled around abruptly - as a shark with blazing blue eyes rushed forward and swallowed the camera.

  
Blake rolled her eyes. Of _course_ they'd leave themselves a sequel hook.

  
She picked up the trash can and took it back over to the kitchenette.

  
"Blake?"

  
What screaming hadn't done, silence had. Yang had raised her head.

  
"Here." Blake crossed to the couch, touching Yang's shoulder. "Movie just ended."

  
Yang slumped over onto the arm of the couch, rubbing at her eyes. "Uhhh, _Depths of the Blue Eyed Ghost_?"

  
"Submarine?"

  
"That's the one." She yawned, and checked her scroll. "I guess everyone else gave up. Did you like it?"

  
"I, um, kind of fell asleep."

  
Yang snorted. "Yeah, because I'm going to blame you for that. Not like I was zonked out too." She stretched, and peered at the coffee table. "Did Weiss come through and clean up or something?"

  
"Just me." 

  
"Oh. Thanks. You should have woken me up. I remember a big mess."

  
Blake fought the urge to brush that off, diminish what she'd done. It wasn't that big of deal, but she had done it. "You looked tired."

  
Letting out another jaw-cracking yawn, Yang nodded. "Thanks." She staggered to her feet. "We should get to actual bed."

  
And Blake had really wanted to just curl up next to her friend, and drift off back to sleep, but - "Yeah. You go ahead. I'm going to load up the dishwasher."

  
Yang made a semi-verbal noise of agreement, and started heading back to RWBY's room, using her scroll as a flashlight.

  
As she piled bowls into the dishwasher, Blake wondered if they'd gotten through all of the movies. There had been... seven? Eight? She'd have to ask Yang tomorrow. Later today, really. And see if they needed to rewatch _Depths of the Blue Eyed Ghost_. What snippets she remembered weren't exactly quality. 

  
But that had been some of the fun, pointing out the plot holes, and the bad characterization, and the cheap special effects, all set to Yang's laughter. Pressing close to Yang when the movies actually managed a good scare - or at least a startling moment. 

  
_Okay, so it's spending time with Yang that's the fun part, not really what we're doing._

  
_I just hope she's having fun too. That she's not just going along with it for my sake._

  
_...On the activities that she suggests._

  
_Of **course** she's having fun._

  
Rinsing her hands off, Blake headed back towards RWBY's room.

  
_...I hope I'm helping her have more fun._


End file.
